


The Garden Path

by elmyraemilie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elmyraemilie/pseuds/elmyraemilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius Malfoy asks his old friend Severus for a favor.  Maybe he's forgotten just who he's dealing with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Garden Path

**Author's Note:**

> Contains very mild consensual bondage and a slap on the butt. Written as an answer for the Day 3 challenge in hp_may_madness on Insane Journal--first times, fistful. Thanks to betas Jen and Reg!

The ballroom was stuffed full with the best, the brightest and the richest that British wizarding society could claim. When the _Daily Prophet_ society page trumpeted Narcissa Malfoy's Halloween Ball as "a return to the grace and civility of the pre-war years," there was some panicked talk about the Malfoys' desire to return to the pureblood bigotry of those days as well. The public would have been comforted by the composition of the crowd. Pureblood and Muggle-born, Hogwarts and home-schooled, wealthy and struggling—it was as diverse a group as was ever packed cheek-by-jowl into the confines of Malfoy Manor.

There was just one fine thread that tied all the guests together: Lucius Malfoy wanted something from every last one of them. Favors, money, business deals, a photo opportunity for the front page of the Prophet, something to restore him to the superior position that his money could no longer buy. Since it was a costume affair, only the Malfoys themselves knew just who was who, at least at the beginning. Lucius, wearing a gold-bordered toga and a half-mask depicting one of the Caesars, worked the room with kisses and collusive smiles; he likely found it to be an exercise in shooting fish in a barrel.

Severus Snape, who arrived clad in his usual black with only a domino mask and a hair color charm to serve as his costume, had just stepped inside the ballroom door when Lucius caught his eye.

"Severus, dear friend, it is good to see you looking so well!"

The handshake Lucius provided was the same dead fish he'd given since his Hogwarts days. Snape extracted his hand with a moue of distaste. "Lucius."

"It's a wonderful party. Narcissa has outdone herself. Have you been to the buffet yet?"

"Since you have just seen me relinquish my cloak to your house-elf, that would scarcely be possible."

There was a pause, as Snape had hoped there would be. The less time he had to spend with this overbearing manipulator, the happier he would be; Malfoy might get to the point sooner if small-talk wasn't in the cards. Severus was disappointed to find that his strategy was not rewarded. With a smile like a toad's, Malfoy pressed onward. "I...we were surprised that you accepted the invitation. You're nearly a hermit these days."

"Only if you consider expanding my business into a second Diagon Alley shop and forming a well-publicized new partnership with George Weasley to be a hermit's cave."

The smile hardened into something that matched the stone of Malfoy's mask. "No. I see that you have been merely too busy to keep in contact with old friends and former students."

Ah. So that was the matter at hand. "And how is Draco these days?"

Wrapping a hand around Severus' biceps, Lucius steered him toward the open doors to the garden, into the labyrinth laid out with low hedges of thornless rose. Easy to see someone approach, and impossible to be overheard. Snape prepared himself for the power play he'd known to expect since he got his invitation to the ball.

"Draco is fine. His practice is going well, apparently, though he won't speak much about it to his mother and I. These youngsters, you know, they need to make their way on their own." There was a tiny hint of parental longing in that sentence; Snape had known Malfoy a long time, so he wondered if that was part of the sales pitch he was about to receive. "He is finding it...difficult...to establish his own household."

With a careful naivete, Snape replied, "Surely there's no shortage of house-elves. Is the house on Park Lane not to his liking?"

Snape's aim was true; a crack appeared in the host-Malfoy façade. "Don't play the Regency simpleton with me, Severus. I know you've seen the photos in the _Prophet_. The boy should be married by now, not making a spectacle of himself with every trollop and fancy-boy on the island." Malfoy stripped off his mask and wiped a hand down his face. "He won't settle. We're afraid that his behavior is going to, well, have an adverse impact on his business."

More like an adverse impact on your social standing, thought Snape, with a certain amount of well-concealed glee. He said, "That must be a great concern for you. I'm sure you've spoken to him about it."

"And he has told us in no uncertain terms to mind our own business." Malfoy peered up at Snape in the dimness. "I thought perhaps you might know someone outside our circle, someone who might be appropriate."

Snape allowed a bark of laughter to escape. "So, having exhausted the possibilities of your own lofty heights, you're willing to stoop to a marriage from the merchant class? Stop it, Lucius. Draco is no boy—he's a respected healer with a thriving private practice. He's a man in every respect, and a damned good-looking one at that. If he would rather _make a spectacle of himself_ than take some overbred pureblood to wife, then it's his own business."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed and spots of red appeared in his pale cheeks; for a moment Snape thought he might lose control. He watched with a cautious eye as Malfoy mastered his fury and returned to the confiding lord of the manor.

"Snape, listen. Draco is not the only one who's suffering. Cissy is worried half to death. She thinks of little else. Calls him 'lopsided.' He puts all his energy into his work, and then he uses these, these people, and throws them away, and it's wearing on her mind. She says it's not a good thing, to be so driven without having a partner to lean on at home."

Now there was something new. Apparently the influence of the Black side of the family had grown in the post-war years. It was entertaining to note that this all-consuming obsession of Narcissa's had allowed her time to plan a sumptuous ball; still, she had managed to make her concern an issue for her husband.

The tiny flutter of an idea tickled the back of Severus' mind. "I know very few young women, and most of those are already attached. I don't think I can be of help."

"You misunderstand me. We are interested in finding someone—really, anyone appropriate—to be the focus of Draco's affections before he makes a greater fool of himself than he already has. Male or female makes no difference." In a bitter tone, Malfoy went on, "It certainly doesn't seem to make any difference to him."

For someone like Malfoy, having blood children to carry on the line was as necessary as a fat vault at Gringotts. His willingness to search for a male partner for his son was evidence of desperation, and that was certainly something Severus could work with. "So what are you proposing that I do? Set him up on blind dates with every eligible witch or wizard in my employ? Develop some potion that would allow male pregnancy?" A hectic gleam entered Malfoy's eye at that, and Snape pursed his lips. "Even you know that's not possible, Lucius."

"So I should resign myself to having my only son be a healer by day and a tabloid whoremonger by night?"

"Merlin's balls. You have a gift for melodrama that is unsurpassed. I will speak with him, try to discover what's driving this behavior. But I will do nothing to introduce him to anyone else or to force him to do what he does not want. Nothing. Do you understand?"

The slick Malfoy smile washed over his face like a wave, obliterating any trace of the concerned parent or the loving husband. "I told Cissy you'd be able to help. She mentioned that she has a number of friends who are eager to try the new cosmetic line when it comes out. It has its own imprint, correct? Women of our circle would be unlikely to use anything on their faces that carried the Weasley name."

"Never mind the carrot, Malfoy. The new line, which does indeed carry a different label than that of either of our shops, will prosper on its own merits. Is Draco here this evening?"

XOXOX

Snape's intention on coming to this party was to eat some excellent food, drink some excellent wine, bring up the new product line in conversation with anyone who would listen, and escape before the dancing started. Lucius Malfoy's little scheme to rein in his son's sexual misbehavior provided an unexpected and delightful opportunity; Snape would show Malfoy that he no longer pulled all the strings, and enjoy an extremely pleasant liaison into the bargain. It could be most amusing.

Unfortunately, it wasn't until the orchestra had taken their seats that he was able to locate Draco. It was easy enough to spot him, once you knew where to look. He lounged against the ornate frame of one of the garden doors, clad in a costume of blue velvet made in the style of a Shakespearean stage prince. The gold of his crown was outshone by the gleam of his hair; his legs showed off their length in deep blue hose. Draco too favored the domino mask rather than anything that covered his face. After his experience with the Death Eaters, Snape could understand why.

Draco stood out in this room full of opulent costumes not because he outdid them, but because he was alone. In a room packed with people, jostling and apologizing to each other in friendly clamor, the scion of the family had surrounded himself with a conspicuous nothing, a void of polished ballroom oak. Snape chose to approach from the direction of the garden, slipping through the door to violate the empty space.

Grey eyes shifted over and swept him up and then down. "Severus Snape. That dark purple suits you."

Snape had almost forgotten about the color charm on his hair. "Thank you, Malfoy. You're looking well."

"I'm looking bored, and you know it. What are you doing here? I haven't seen you since, what, the second or third remembrance ceremony?"

"You haven't been attending those, or you would have seen me every year since. Your practice is keeping you busy, I suppose."

"It is. I've expanded my hours, but the days are still full."

Snape turned toward him and leaned a shoulder on the door jamb next to his. "Your nights appear to be keeping full as well."

Draco did not even blink, but his demeanor tightened like a drawn bow. "So you've spoken with dear Daddy, have you? He's getting desperate, enlisting his friends to speak for him. Give it up; I need neither his money nor his influence these days."

That they were still standing together by the door was enough of a gain for Snape, at least for the moment. He lowered his voice to a creamy, confiding tone, and said, "I would not imply that you do. You've made your way in the world on your own recognizance. It's surprising that someone who so clearly knows their own mind would be unable to choose a more discreet personal style."

Now there was something like a smile. "But look what it gets me, Severus. I can call you Severus now, right?" At Snape's raised brow and single nod, he went on. "I have all the sex I want, I don't have to deal with the stupid, the greedy, the rescuers or the nobility-crazy for more than a couple hours at a time, and it gets right up my father's aristocratic, meddling, upturned nose. What more could I ask?"

That felt like a deliberate opening. Snape chose to take it; he leaned in until he was nearly whispering in Draco's ear. "You could ask for someone who might keep your attention for more than twenty-four hours."

The flare of response in Draco's eyes was unmistakeable. Snape pushed ahead. "I've seen the photos in the Prophet. You're going out with children. They're nineteen, twenty, twenty-one years old, all very pretty, but not a one of them with the kind of experience you've had in the world. You're bored, Draco, you said it yourself. You're boring yourself to tears, just to get back at your father. It's a natural enough impulse, but there are surely better ways to go about it."

Now Draco turned to rest his own shoulder on the wall. They were inches apart, and Snape had no doubt that the entire ballroom was watching them out of the corner of its collective eye. The orchestra struck up a waltz and below the whine of the violins, Draco said, "I'm fascinated. Why don't we go outside? I don't want to miss any of the details."

Snape stood back and gestured him out the door.

XOXOX

Snape's second stroll in the Malfoy gardens that evening was guided in a very different direction. Instead of turning toward the labyrinth, Draco led him around the side of the house to a lawn enclosed by a high wall. The full moon illuminated a path running straight down the center between two lines of sculptured human figures; at the end was a fountain that gurgled and splashed from the upraised beak of a phoenix into a basin below.

"This way," Draco said, stepping off the flagstones into the dark lee of the wall. Snape followed, and felt his shoulder grabbed by a strong hand that pushed his back against the rough stone. Draco grabbed a fistful of hair with one hand and a fistful of ass with the other, and shoved his mouth against Snape's in what might have been a kiss. Taking his will in hand, Snape refused to respond.

After a few seconds, Draco pulled back. "If this is supposed to keep my attention, you have misjudged me completely."

"Hmmm." Since there was some distance between them, Snape drew the back of his hand across his mouth like a deliberate insult. He could see the frown on Draco's face, now that his eyes were accustomed to the darkness. "No, I don't think I have."

Shifting his weight, he took Draco's wrists in his hands and spun him around, pinning his arms above his head against the wall. Draco's eyes widened, then narrowed; he pushed against Severus' hold, but got nowhere. "Now," said Severus, with a very small smile, "let's try this once more."

He leaned in and hovered his mouth above Draco's, so close he could feel the heat of his lips and the moisture of his breath as they parted, his eyes closed, ready for the kiss. It was the perfect moment to bend his head and run his tongue up the artery in Draco's neck, exposed by his straining toward Severus. When he reached the top, he bit down gently between the curving ear and the perfectly-barbered blond hair; the quiet moan he heard was just as he had planned.

Rocking his hips forward, Snape encountered not the filling cock he'd expected, but the codpiece of the damnable costume. Instinct showed him the opportunity; he brought his lips to Draco's ear and whispered the spell that removed codpiece, jerkin, sleeves and all, leaving him gasping against the wall in blue hose and a crown.

"Oh, I do like you this way," he breathed, staying just out of reach of Draco's seeking mouth. "The prince of debauchery, with his crown and his weeping scepter." Snape rolled his pelvis again, scrubbing the length of the wool trouser placket against that tender skin. Draco's moan was louder; his hips as well as his mouth strained forward to get a taste of Snape, but they were denied. "No, no. Not on your terms this time. I'm not one of your little diversions. I know what I want, and I will have it." He scraped Draco's cock against his own clothed one once again.

"What—" A pause to lick his lips and try to focus. "We want the same thing, don't we? Why...why put it off?" He made a sudden lunge against Snape's keeping hands but was unrewarded.

"Because the journey, dear Draco, should always be as interesting as the destination." Snape whispered another spell. He moved his hands away, but Draco's arms remained above his head.

It was plain that the struggle he made against the magical bonds was only meant to see that they held; escape was the last thing on Draco's mind. "Merlin, that's hot. So hot. You just get what you want, don't you? That's real, that's what I—"

Snape leaned in and covered the moving lips with his own. He ran his hands up the length of Draco's pale arms, over the invisible restraints, back down to find the peaked nipples with his thumbs. He explored the inside of Draco's mouth with his tongue, finding and claiming the sensitive places, taking deep pleasure in his moans and muffled cries. Teeth and lips, he nibbled along that pointed chin and suckled on the place where jaw turns to throat, a place that could not be hidden by the most high-necked of robes.

Draco was twisting beneath him now. When Snape brushed his hands over the wings of Draco's pelvis, he was rewarded with something near a scream. There began a litany of pleas. First it was "more," and "harder," and "touch me," and "do it now", but gradually, as Snape maintained his campaign of stimulation without release, the words changed. "Let me touch you, let me kiss you, I'll suck you, let me show you how good—"

"Ah, that's better." Snape stepped back to unzip his trousers, provoking a bereft moan. The moon had moved along its course and now shone down on Draco, pinned against his father's garden wall. His hair was tousled and plastered with sweat, his mouth swollen with kisses; there were scratches along his ribcage and a dark purple bruise beneath his jaw. His cock arched up from his body and the light caught in a ribbon of moisture that snaked down its length.

Snape thought he was more beautiful than he had ever been.

He removed his coat, his shoes and stockings, and slipped his trousers down his legs, pants with them. He spoke a quick _Silencio_ as he folded them and laid them aside, then stepped closer—though not so close that Draco could not see how hard he was. He ran a casual hand up the length. "Do you want this?"

"Oh, god yes. Yes. Please yes. So deep in me, want it bad."

"Legs around my waist then." When Draco paused, he got a quick smack to the side of his hip. "Come on, legs around my waist."

No more hesitation then. Draco gave a hop and Severus caught his buttocks in his hands. He was on the verge of speaking a lubrication spell when Draco whispered one that lubed and stretched as well. "It's the only one I can do wandless," he said; after all they'd done, now the blush crept up his cheeks.

"I hope it's a good one," Severus hissed, and began to ease his cock into that tight, tight heat. The stretch was just adequate, but the lubrication was first-rate. He slipped inward. Draco clutched him tight with his legs and panted as his hole was breached, little moans and words of encouragement falling from his lips. At last, when Severus thought he could go no further, Draco gave a bounce that seated him entirely on Snape's cock.

They paused there, like two men preparing to jump from a great height. Snape brushed the hair from Draco's eyes and Draco leaned forward to place a careful kiss on his mouth. Then Snape thrust in and up; Draco's eyes widened and he pressed forward and down, pulling back as Snape did to do it again.

With his hands supporting Draco from beneath, Snape maneuvered them until he was hitting the sweet spot over and over. Draco was lost in the pleasure, his eyes unfocused, his mouth open and seeking after kisses that swallowed his cries. Snape found him exquisite, his responsiveness even more compelling than his beauty. "Yes, yes, that's it, that's what I wanted. Take it, Draco. Look me in the eyes. No hiding."

The grey eyes pulled back from the far distance to lock onto Snape's gaze. Snape reached between them and took a good hold of Draco's leaking prick. He gave a shout that made Severus glad he had taken precautions. "I'm going to... Yes! Yes, I'm going to come, Severus, yes, please yes..."

His eyes snapped closed and he threw his head back against the wall; Snape worked his cock as well as he could and jerked out two more thrusts before he too lost control. He groaned and pitched forward, slipping free of the confines of Draco's body.

Snape ended the charm that held Draco up, and together they tumbled to the grass. They lay there, gasping for breath, groping their way back from the haze of release. Draco started to shiver; it roused Snape, who had been drowsily watching their sweat steam up into the chill night air. "Here, here," he said, and returned Draco's clothing to him with the wave of his wand.

"Now you use a wand?" Draco asked.

"It's easier to make things go away than it is to bring them back," Severus replied, and directed a healing spell toward the knot he was sure Draco had at the back of his head.

They gathered themselves together without another word. Snape was tying his last bootlace when Draco spoke.

"This is awkward."

Somewhere inside Severus, something sighed in disappointment; there had been possibilities here. "Why is that?" he asked in a carefully neutral voice.

"I don't know how to ask if we can do this again sometime soon."

"This?" Looking around them, Snape raised a brow.

Draco shook his head. "Must you be so literal-minded? Not have sex against my father's garden wall. Just..."

"Have sex?" Not that he wasn't willing, but somewhere along the way Snape had begun to think of more.

"Well, that too, but perhaps dinner first, or a play or something. I've never really been out on a date, you know."

"First time for everything, then," Snape replied, hoping his eagerness did not show. Then, out of curiosity, he asked, "What will your father say?"

Draco gave an inelegant snort. "Oh, he'll be furious." Then he met Severus' eyes and smiled. "Absolutely furious. He'll have what he wanted, so he won't be able to complain."

Severus smirked. "Such a shame. I'm sure he'll come to terms if he's given enough time."

"We'll have to make sure he has all the time he needs then." Draco's voice was uncertain, but he leaned over and kissed Severus on the mouth.

Severus caught him by the shoulder and kissed back. "We will indeed."


End file.
